


Indecisive, Insecure, Interested

by tuvokholdmyhandchallenge



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, No Smut, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26229235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuvokholdmyhandchallenge/pseuds/tuvokholdmyhandchallenge
Summary: Tasha is struggling with her professional identity and her personal desires. Not desires. Interests.Um.She's just struggling, and it's not fair that Data isn't.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	Indecisive, Insecure, Interested

Data and Tasha had been on cool but civil terms since ‘the Incident,’ as she was calling it in her head (or would be, if she were thinking about it in her head). 

Tasha found herself sharing a turbolift with Data a week and change after ‘the Incident.’ She knew, rationally, that there was no tension in the lift. Rationally, he was giving no indication that she was even in the lift with him, beyond his original nod of greeting. Rationally, the whole ride only took a handful of seconds, half a minute tops. 

Rationally. 

“Halt!” Tasha was surprised to hear her own voice. The lift came to a stop, creating something of a temporary sanctum. 

She turned to Data and met his impassive gaze. It was irritating, how he didn’t seem to be having any issues with this, while she was stuck replaying… ‘the Incident…’ in her head time and again. Tasha had thought she’d be able to move past it like she’s moved past everything else in her life, file it away under “Do Not Review” in her brain and call it good. But every time she worked with him, every shared mission, every minute on the bridge with him seated somehow elegantly, aloof, at the console, made her feel a little bit crazier than the last. At one point she’d even convinced herself that the whole thing hadn’t actually happened, until she’d found the blue scarf “shirt” at the bottom of her closet.

“Is something the matter, Lieutenant Yar?” Data asked, his tone polite, almost disinterested. It made her itch. 

Tasha swallowed. “We need to talk about it.” 

“Which subject would you like to speak about?” 

“Don’t play coy, Data.” A week’s worth of late nights of cycled contemplation/repression came to a head in her tone and Tasha leaned forward, aggressive in her insecurity. She just barely stopped herself from pointing at him in accusation. 

“I do not follow your statements.” He paused. “Are you speaking with regards to the intercourse we participated in-” 

“Yes, Data! But don’t call it that, my god!” Tasha threw her hands up, feeling her cheeks heat. “But… Yes. I need to- We should. I need to sort some things out, and I’m going to need your-” The words stalled in her throat. “I need your help.” 

Data nodded. “I anticipate this conversation will last multiple minutes; perhaps we should relocate to a more permanent location than the lift.” He glanced about and Tasha became aware of how ridiculous this situation was, objectively. “It would not be considered appropriate to take the lift out of commission for an extended period of time.” 

Tasha nodded. “Right. My quarters? Or-” the memory of last time they were together in her room prodded at her mind and she shook her head. “Your quarters?” 

Date nodded. “My quarters are acceptable.” He stood, watching her, until Tasha realized he wasn’t going to start the lift without her say. 

“Lift resume.” Her voice was strong, she was relieved to discover. 

The walk to Data’s quarters was quiet, with Tasha’s anxiety coiling in her gut as Data led the way. She caught herself appreciating his form on the way, and immediately shut down that train of thought. She was already muddled enough without worrying about aesthetics on top of everything else. 

Data stood by and allowed Tasha to enter his room first, an almost-chivalrous move that made a corner of Tasha’s brain want to giggle. Some of his idiosyncrasies could be… charming. 

They entered and Tasha took a moment to appreciate Data’s room. It was stark, functional, but had the smallest hints of personality here and there. It looked a lot like hers, regarding decor. 

“Please, sit.” Data gestured to one of his two chairs. Tasha perched herself on the edge of the seat, unwilling to get too comfortable. 

The silence stretched for multiple seconds, rapidly becoming awkward, at least on Tasha’s end. She pushed down the rising frustration and her reflexive anger. 

“We had s- sex.” She met Data’s eyes, searching for some response, and was oddly gratified to see a spark of… something. She clenched her fists. 

“We did.” He agreed with a slight nod. 

“While under the influence of… something.”

“Correct.” 

“And I told you it didn’t happen.” 

Data didn’t even reply to that, just raised his brows slightly, asking for continuation. 

“But I can’t forget, okay?” she forced the words out, painful at first, with an immediate rush of relief chasing them. She forged on. “I can’t forget that it happened, and I’m afraid it’s affecting my work.” That wasn’t quite what she meant to say, but it had been bothering her. It was a decent place to start. 

Data’s smooth expression finally pinched into concern and Tasha felt another small wave of relief roll over her. If Data understood anything, it was work ethic. 

“What part of your work is being impacted?” 

“The, uh. It’s just… distracting. Working with you. It makes me worried.” 

Data paused, as if to consider. 

“You are finding it intolerable to work with me.” 

Tasha let her gaze fall to her hands and almost nodded, but that wasn’t fair. Data, for once, didn’t allow the silence to sit. 

“There are a few ways to solve this, Ms. Yar.” Tasha looked back up at his words, the formal reference. He appeared to straighten slightly, his shoulders becoming even more perfectly poised, as if coming to attention in his chair. 

“I can apply for a transfer, or you can, or one of us can change shifts. Of course, you will be unable to completely avoid my presence if we both remain on the Enterprise.” Tasha hadn’t expected him to lay it out so casually. He continued, “I would prefer not to leave this ship, but it is understandable if it will impact your work to an insurmountable level, and as you are human, you will be a priority to remain at your requested post. Additionally, as I am the assumed male and aggressor, it-”

“Hey! Stop!” Tasha held her hands up. “First of all. Data. Have you been thinking about this? Like, since before I said we have to talk?” 

Data nodded, once, brows furrowed. “Of course.”

“Okay, let me think for a second.” She closed her eyes, considered her words carefully. The fact that Data had been considering, and had seemingly made peace with the idea that their- ‘the Incident’ would have repercussions, and was willing to pay the cost if she wasn’t… All of those concepts changed things. Hopefully enough. 

“It’s not intolerable. Don’t… Neither of us will be transferring. That doesn’t make sense.” There was no way she imagined the minute relaxation of his features. 

“And I wouldn’t have priority anyway, that’s bullshit, you’ve been in Starfleet since I was a baby, literally!” Data’s expression became sardonic for a moment before smoothing over to neutrality again. Tasha didn’t have time to address that, but she filed it away for later. “As for being the aggressor, we both know that’s false, and I would never accuse you of something like that.” Her voice turned hard. “Believe me, I know aggressors, and you’re not one of them.” 

“But that’s beside the point. I don’t want to switch shifts either.” She paused for breath. “I think we can come up with a better solution.” 

“What do you propose?” Data leaned forward slightly, a curious gleam in his eyes. Tasha took in his appearance again and felt an unpleasant swirl of affection in her chest, the same swirl that had been coming and going for the past few days. She let it linger for just a moment, let it bleed into her words in a moment of weakness. 

“I don’t know yet. But I don’t want either of us to leave, so we’re going to have to come up with something together.”

Data paused, considering. 

“You do not wish me to leave, but I am a distraction. We appear to have reached an impasse.”

“I know! I know. But I refuse to believe there’s not some solution that means we can’t keep working. Here. With the crew.” It was too early to call them her family, but the fact that the urge was there for even a moment was telling. 

Tasha took a fortifying breath and reached out, slowly covering Data’s hand with her own. She could only stand to leave it there for a moment, and Data’s mildly surprised expression made her snatch her hand back into her lap.

“We can figure it out. I don’t know what I need yet, but I promise I’ll try to work on it. On my… stuff.” 

“I understand that it is difficult to deal with emotional responses to- sex.” Tasha felt a smile tug at her lips at Data’s careful choice of words. 

“What do you need from me?” Data’s voice was soft, gentle. The sincerity was almost painful. 

“I don’t know that, either.” Tasha huffed out a laugh. “I know, what do I know? But if you’re willing to work with me, we can, um. Work together. Figure something out.” Tasha was repeating herself, and a glance indicated that Data recognized that, but he chose not to say anything. 

“Right. Then. I’m going to go.” Tasha stood and brushed down her suit, an unnecessary motion, and went to the door. 

And hesitated. 

“Data… You’re a good man. And I’m glad, and proud, to work with you.” She smiled back at him, a frail extended peace offering. He took it with an odd form of grace, as he did everything. 

“I also find working with you to be a rewarding experience. I would like to continue doing so as long as we are able.” 

Tasha nodded and strode out the door. 

She made it all the way to the turbolift before she collapsed onto the wall and dragged a hand down her face. That hadn’t resolved anything, but at least now he knew. 

And she knew what his quarters looked like. Perhaps they should have met elsewhere. 

As ‘the Incident’ came to her again, the scene shifted from ‘memory’ realm to something of a ‘daydream,’ with his quarters as the backdrop. It took a few moments than she would have liked for her to realize her error and crush the whole thing, shoving it back into the recesses of her mind. 

The lift stopped at her floor and Tasha started toward her room, before pausing and turning instead toward Deanna’s. Her conversation with Data may not have brought many answers, but it felt like it shook something loose. Perhaps she should take advantage of the stewing emotions while she was willing to admit they existed.


End file.
